Anchors Aweigh : This One's for the Winter
by Stoic Harlequin
Summary: As a challenge to ourselves, we take you on a journey through the mind of Leonardo, a leader...a warrior...a simple turtle. What awaits him are lessons he can't find anywhere else.
1. Anchors Aweigh

**::Author's Note::**

This was part of a challenge we did. We gave each other specific prompts (a setting, a character, and a mood) in order to inspire the other to write their heart out. I was tasked with "Leonardo" "a boat or shore" and "hopeful or optimistic". I can't be sure I got that, but I did my best. My reasoning in the topic came from the fact that, as far as I can recall, we aren't given explicit indication of how Leo got to Costa Rica from NYC. Therefore I took it in my own way-he had no clue how he was supposed to either.

We would love if you, our lovely readers, would take the time to see if you can guess who wrote this. Between the two, This One's for the Winter and Anchors Aweigh, who do you think wrote which? Stoic (Jackie) or Harley (Mandy)?

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><p><em>Summary<em>: The journey of a warrior is a constant trial of his strength and character. Realizing his purpose, Leonardo begins his own journey.

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><p><strong>Anchors Aweigh<strong>

I am _not_Donatello.

I don't know how to build things, I'm not even sure I could pretend to know. It seems easy when he tightens a screw here and fixes an engine there. There is nothing but fluid, beautiful movement in his actions. I, instead, have nothing but clumsy fingers and misguided ideas. I try to listen, but its not the easiest when Don speaks in...well…Don.

Since I can't build something, I'm not as crafty with breaking it too. Don, he can pick a lock with the best of them and make it looked like he did nothing but will it to click free. That I can't do, all I have are soft feet and gentle steps.

Perhaps this was the first lesson I was meant to learn, a test of my agility…my strength. I am but a creature, a turtle as it were, of fallible grace. Certain enough, I am not perfect…no matter how some may believe me to be. I'm not even striving for perfection, it would be arrogant to say I could reach it. That, however, doesn't mean I shouldn't push to be just barely.

I am _not_Michelangelo.

He is a natural in his body, so in tune with himself that had he the mind of a warrior, he would be terrifying. Instead, the world can rest easy know a strength like his is wasted on pizza or video games. I am envious of him, for his natural talent that has taken me years to reach. He forgets how good he truly is, or perhaps forgets how good he could be, and that is part of his charm. No, instead, I do everything I can to reach my potential and more.

Is that why I've been sent to do this? I surely think so, my potential is there…I crave it. I want it. Yet I wonder if I am worthy of it.

I am _not_Raphael.

…This is a statement I can't quite be sure of. Am I? We are both warriors in our hearts and in our minds, warriors in our actions. We share so much of these traits and a need, if not a duty, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Yet I am in control of what I can do…no, I haven't the control Don or Mikey does. But certainly more than my hot-headed counterpart and that, in turn, makes me different.

I wish he could see his own potential, perhaps he would be beside me now. Instead, I am alone…and in my loneliness, achieving what is necessary to keep us together. At least that is my goal. To reach an actualization, perhaps unreachable in its own right, that will bring nothing but prosperity to us. A leader is mean to lead…what sort of leader would I be if I did not know how?

Instructed simply to 'find myself', I have been given this task with nothing more. No direction to my destination, no fancy map Donnie could draw. I don't have a skateboard to lead me as Mikey might use. And I haven't the defiance Raph does to decline my orders. No, instead I must get to the Caribbean on my own…on my own terms. I must lead myself.

I _am_Leonardo.

A ship is my only option to keep my body hidden from those who ought not see. It is the grace in my step, the ease in my movements, that helped me aboard a shipped docked at the harbor far from New York City. Would Donnie been able to pick this lock? Would Mikey been able to charm his way aboard? Would Raph been able to force his entry? No, I think not.

At first, confused by my assignment, I see now why I must go forth to Costa Rica and begin a new training, a new hope for my brothers. It is not simply I that holds them together, but each of us…and our individual parts…that make us whole. My first lesson was to see my importance and I see it - I am not meant to be Donnie or Mikey or Raph. I am meant to be Leonardo and I will do anything to prefect that which I already am.

With the rocking of the sea, I sit among boxes and crates of cargo - cargo myself, though my destination is more than a simple shore. No, instead, I am on a path far more complicated. Yet I am ready.

Thank you, Sensei.


	2. This One's for the Winter

**::Author's Note::**

This was part of a challenge we did. We gave each other specific prompts (a setting, a character, and a mood) in order to inspire the other to write their heart out. I was tasked with "Leonardo OR Donatello" "Summer Rain" and "Exciting". I was going for a different look at Leo. Yes he's responsible and yes he's honorable - but the poor man needs so more stories about him...being him.

We would love if you, our lovely readers, would take the time to see if you can guess who wrote this. Yes, independently - now you see our own individual writing styles. Are they that different? Between the two, Anchors Aweigh and This One's for the Winter, who do you think wrote which? Stoic (Jackie) or Harley (Mandy)?

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><p><em>Summary<em>: Once in awhile even the most responsible of people deserve and need a moment of their own. Even if it's just one. After all, being a good leader is achieved through experience.

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><p><strong>This One's for the Winter<strong>

I gingerly peeled the brown, worn wraps from my wrists and let them flutter into a disheveled pile at my side. On top of the misbegotten fabric, I placed the protective pads from my elbows and knees. One at a time, my katana slipped from their snug beds, as they normally sleep, on my back. Next, my belt and the holsters, which normally house my weapons. I often wonder if they are extensions of me, my katana, as if organically connected to me - or perhaps my soul. Other times they seem foreign, as if a proverbial crutch I rely on too much. That's why they sit with all the other parts that cover me, to keep me from finding solace in anything familiar.

Breathe, Leo..._breathe_...

I was trying to keep my heart from beating wildly in excited rapture for my freedom. I failed as it hammered against my plastron with such force that I was reminded exactly how alive I really am. This is a lesson I often forget when my focus remains on my brothers, father and family of peripheral humans - such as April and Casey. It somehow slips my mind that I am, indeed, alive. Goals, focus, and the yoke of responsibility distract me from the challenge of experience for nothing more than to experience it. The intrinsic value of learning to live.

I'm _trying_.

That's why my blood rushes through my veins and my body's shaking from the raw energy tingling in the air around me. Head bowed and two deep breaths later I'm still unsuccessful in my vain attempts at serenity. I had the urge, yet stifled it, to rip my bandana off my head carelessly and pitch it into the air haplessly. It's not easy, at least not as easy as I try to make it appear to my family, to keep myself focused when pending joy exists within my reach. I certainly get eager. I'm fallible. Though not human, I'm certainly a person.

Screw it!

No one was looking. I didn't untie it. I didn't even pretend like I cared to. My mask came off in one swift jerk and I didn't look back to see how long it hung in the air. I was alone. Nature and me free to share in our mutual appreciation for one another. I ran, _fast_, and pitched myself off the edge of the cliff face and let myself freefall for several seconds, enjoying the wind on my face before I drew my arms up to spearhead my body into the cool, blue pool below. I hit the water like the point of an arrow and enjoyed the feel of the cool lagoon surround me.

_Sweet_ independence.

I miss them. Don't mistake that, but my pleasure is my own today. Yes, I was sent away to learn, to train, to become a better leader, but in that, learning to lead is learning to lead myself. Summer was the perfect time to come south of the equator and as I pulled myself up onto a slate colored rock, aside one of my lesser brethren, I gave in to my instincts and basked. Even as the daily afternoon rain sprinkled us, the sun still peeking out, I realized this would be the best time of my life - the only time I could enjoy the sun, rain, summer and life as it was meant to be.

Through _experience_.


End file.
